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Inside the Markets of Bolivia

July 21st, 2025 by Elizabeth Craig

Throughout my time living in Cochabamba and working with Banco de Alimentos de Bolivia, many of my most memorable experiences have been in the markets here. Coming from the United States, when I thought of a “market” I thought of Kroger or Walmart, or maybe a farmers’ market. But here, especially being part of the food bank, the local markets and even the supermarket chains have been super interesting to explore.

Inside a Santa Cruz market where we collect produce

So far, I’ve gone shopping at two different supermarket chains here: Hipermaxi and IC Norte. When I went grocery shopping for the first time in Cochabamba, it was honestly very different from my previous grocery shopping experiences. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but many of the ingredients and brands that I was used to and that were super accessible in the United States weren’t available in Bolivia or, if they were, were imported and thus more expensive. For example, a 13 ounce container of Nutella costs $4.79 at Target in the United States, whereas at Hipermaxi, based on the official exchange rate, it’s closer to $25. I was also surprised to see milk, juice, and yogurt in bags and eggs sitting out unrefrigerated, practices different than what I’d seen in the United States. I’ve definitely had to adapt to cooking using the ingredients and brands that are here, but I have to say that I’ve come to love a lot of the brands and will definitely be missing them once I leave (special shoutout to Saladix chips and Pilfrut Durazno juice.)

The ice cream section in La Cancha

Another unique market experience here in Cochabamba has been going to La Cancha. La Cancha is one of South America’s biggest markets and it has thousands of vendors, selling really anything that you could be looking for. My first time going I went with Joshua and two people from the food bank, Yu and Carolina. It was super interesting to see all of the things being sold, especially the items that normally wouldn’t be sold in a supermarket in the United States or in Bolivia. For example, in the meat section, there were definitely some cuts for sale that I wasn’t used to seeing, like the nose of a cow which can be used for some soups. There were also live animals for sale, including chickens, bunnies, puppies, kittens, rats, birds, and guinea pigs. Around 48% of people in Cochabamba identify as being Indigenous, and as such there are many vendors selling Quechua and Aymara clothing, aguayos, and materials to use in the honoring of Pachamama (Mother Earth.) Each time that I’ve gone to La Cancha, I’ve been amazed at the breadth of goods being offered and it never ceases to surprise me what I might find during a visit there.

A cute dog in Mercado Campesino

At Banco de Alimentos de Bolivia, one of our main sources of donations is the vendors at markets like Mercado Campesino. When we go to the market to collect donations, we usually load up a cart with some empty boxes and bring cards with information about the food bank and go one by one from casero to casero. Sometimes, the vendors will have some fruits or vegetables that are less likely to be sold for one reason or another. For example, maybe they might have a strange shape, be smaller than normal, or be colored differently. These products the caseros are often willing to donate, and from there we can bring the produce back to the food bank and go through it to make sure it’s safe to eat before getting it to the beneficiaries. One of my favorite memories from collecting produce with the food bank was in Santa Cruz. This time, I was paired with Pame and was going with her to help her carry the collections. Pame speaks Quechua, and it was honestly really enlightening to see how the caseritas opened up to her when they saw how she spoke their language with the kindness and gentleness that anyone who has met Pame is so familiar with. I think that just goes to show the effect that such compassion and connection can have on many other contexts in our day to day lives.

Capinota

Since coming here, I’ve also gotten to see how the food gets to the market during a visit to Capinota, a town about two hours outside of Cochabamba. Jheysson, a director at Banco de Alimentos de Bolivia, says that Capinota is where the majority of food in Cochabamba comes from. There are fields sprawling as far as the eyes can see filled with crops that will be harvested for produce and sent to the markets. Where there’s no crops, there’s cows, chickens, or other animals that will be used for food. I was pleasantly surprised when I saw a Pil truck picking up milk from a local dairy farm. Pil is a very large dairy company in Bolivia, so it was nice to see that the large companies depend on the local farmers. My own grandparents are farmers, so I always love when the smaller, family farms are being supported. There in Capinota, we were able to pick up a donation of carrots and potatoes that had just been harvested and talk to some of the people working to pull up carrots from the ground, which was really cool.

Getting to learn from the many different market environments in Cochabamba during my time with the food bank has been one of the highlights of my Loewenstern experience. It has made me feel more connected with the people and cultures of Bolivia and developed my appreciation for local food systems and the people who sustain them. I’m so grateful for Banco de Alimentos de Bolivia and for the Loewenstern Fellowship for allowing me to work with such an incredible organization in such a beautiful country.

 

Adventures in Kenya!!

July 14th, 2025 by Aarthi Kukaruban

The people at Azadi, my community partner, are so welcoming. Every Monday, the one day the whole team meets at the resource center, they greet us with warm hugs, and we spend the first hour or so settling in and chatting over breakfast. On the day I arrived, one of the members gave me a Swahili name: Zuri, which I later learned means “beautiful.” We also begin every meeting with a round of check-ins. Before coming here, asking “How are you?” always felt like a formality, and answering “Good” was just my automatic response. But it’s been refreshing to see how much the team values honestly sharing how you feel, especially if you’re not doing the best, and expressing when you need time to rest and recover. The resource center – where meetings, wellbeing activities, and other programming take place – is an actual house, which feels fitting since the space is meant to feel like home. We eat meals together, collaborate on our work together, and engage in fun activities together. Everyone in the Azadi community, from the staff to the members, treats one another like family.

That sense of community has been especially grounding as I adjusted to a completely different pace of life. Although I’ve appreciated the break from Rice’s fast-paced grind and the typical 9-to-5 routine, the lack of structure most days was definitely an adjustment. I found myself getting anxious whenever I had too much spare time and didn’t know what to do with myself, especially during my first two weeks before my travel buddy arrived. But I’ve learned to use the spare time to my advantage and explore everything Nairobi had to offer. Some days I’d check out a café, thrift clothes, or take a stroll in the forest near where I live (it’s so lush and green here, which is something I’ll certainly miss when I return to the stretches of cement in Houston).

Karura Forest

There were also some moments that reminded me of Sri Lanka, the country where my parents immigrated from. For one, chapatis and samosas are popular snacks here in Kenya as well. The fruit stalls (fruits from here are tastier and cheaper compared to those at the grocery store!), markets selling hand-crafted items, and the overall atmosphere brought back memories of summers spent in Sri Lanka when I was younger. The auto rickshaws (known locally as tuktuks) were also a familiar sight. These three-wheeled vehicles are especially popular in the coast, and we rode one during an Uber trip. They have some other fun means of transportation as well, including boda bodas, which are motorcycle taxis… They’re exhilarating if you enjoy an adrenaline rush! But the most distinctively Kenyan form of transport has to be the matatus. These buses are covered in colorful graffiti, and no matter the time of day, they’re blasting upbeat music and flashing vibrant lights inside!

Matatu!

It’s been eye-opening to see how some everyday activities, ones you usually don’t think twice about, can turn into wild adventures in a foreign country. Take crossing the road, for instance. In Houston, it’s simple: wait at a crosswalk, then go when the light changes. But in Kenya, there aren’t really any crosswalks, pedestrian signals, or even traffic lights. Especially during rush hour, crossing the street becomes a feat. Driving seems like a whole other thing too… Even though the lanes are marked, they’re often treated more like suggestions (I still trust these drivers more than Houston drivers 😅)

Exploring the city also meant navigating some cultural and language barriers. While everyone at work could communicate in English, the preferred language was Swahili. In other words, whenever the team would talk casually among themselves, it was always in Swahili. Sometimes this made it challenging to join in on conversations, but it’s pushed me to take more initiative in starting conversations and learning a few words in Swahili as well! One that I’d become familiar with early on was “mzungu”, which is the Swahili word for foreigner.

One of the most rewarding parts of being here has been forming friendships with locals! We made a good friend here who’s been taking us around the city and introducing us to places we would’ve never found on our own. One morning, we visited Gikomba market, a massive and chaotic open-air market with vendors selling second-hand clothing imported from the U.S. and countries in Europe, which are now being sold for as little as 100 shillings (equivalent to around 75 cents). At the market, we didn’t come across a single other foreigner, which made it feel like a true hidden gem. It was definitely hectic and overwhelming at first, with narrow aisles packed with people, and vendors occasionally tapping us on the shoulder or calling out to get our attention, but I’m glad I got to experience the mitumba business, which is a major source of both employment and affordable clothing. Our local friend also introduced us to some foods I’ve never tried before. One was mabuyu, a street snack made from baobab seeds coated in sugar, spices, and coloring. A small bag costs just 10 shillings (less than 10 cents) and she showed us the proper way to eat it: let the coating dissolve in your mouth, then spit out the seed. I also tried some new tropical fruits like granadilla, which is similar to passionfruit, and super delicious.

Mabuyu, a street snack found in Kenya!

As I’m writing this, I still have a few weeks left to go in Kenya, and I’m excited for what awaits!

El Peso Colombiano: A Chaotic Welcome to Medellín 🇨🇴

July 8th, 2025 by Danielle Colón

 

“I’m sorry, I just can’t let you in. I hope you all can understand where I’m coming from.”

Danielle and Valeria giving a thumbs up with a large filled pink suitcase is open on an airport scale.

Me and Valeria reorganizing and redistributing the items in my checked bag so its underweight.

Those were definitely NOT the words I imagined (or wanted) to hear on my very first night in Medellín. After a long travel day, nearly an hour’s drive from the airport and a 7ish hour flight from Texas, my travel buddy, Valeria, and I found ourselves standing outside the gate of our Airbnb. We scrambled as we tried to find a place to sleep for our first night in Colombia.

The security guard spoke fast and even with our combined Spanish skills, it was hard to get the full picture of what he was saying. The address had so many numbers (a very common feat here in Medellín) that I had completely skimmed over the fact that we were missing the actual apartment number (very much my bad). “Were we being scammed?” Was the first thought that crossed my mind. Thankfully, the next morning brought clarity: our host had just been asleep and the automated system to give us the information needed didn’t go through for whatever reason. We were finally let in relieved that this situation turned into a funny story to recall later instead of having to live at the office.

Even when first arriving at the airport, the shift was real. My suitcase was a tad overweight (oops), but thanks to a kind airline employee and some creative redistribution between my bag, Valeria’s, and our carry-ons, we made it work. Sitting at the gate, I overheard conversations all around me in Spanish. Me and Google Translate were about to get REAL close.

 

The Language Barrier

I grew up in bilingual classrooms up until high school, so I knew Spanish was still somewhere in me but I’ve been out of practice for a good while. But full immersion is a whole different game. I came into this knowing I’d probably need to sharpen my R-rolling skills if I wanted to get around with any confidence.

At first, I was quiet. Not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because by the time I translated what someone said and figured out how to respond, the conversation had already moved on. So I’d laugh, smile, or nod and hope it was the right reaction. I’ve had to get comfortable asking people to repeat themselves— or just admit when I don’t understand. Still, I can feel myself improving, and me and Valeria help each other out by conversing in Spanish when we’re out and about. I’ve come a long way, both from the day I accepted this fellowship back in December and from the moment I arrived in Medellín a few weeks ago.

City First Impressions

A viewpoint from above of the busting city of Medellin. Lots of graffiti artwork, people walking, cars, and motorcycles are passing through.

This is the view from the San Antonio metro stop! It’s very central to the city and many people pass through here everyday.

Medellín, at first glance, reminded me a lot of New York in the way how storefronts are small, densely packed, and spill right out onto the street. The city runs at its own pace: constant, lively, and always moving no matter what time of day it might be. There’s no A/C in most places (including our apartment), but you don’t really need it— the temperature hovers around a comfortable 70°F, so fans and rolled-down car windows do the trick most of the time. Most people get around by walking or using the metro, and on weekends, parts of the roads are even closed off so people can bike, run, or walk freely which is pretty neat.

Each area we’ve visited has its own vibe. Laureles is casual and tourist-friendly, with recognizable restaurants and coffee shops. El Poblado is louder— full of nightlife, tours, and a more intense energy. And then there’s La Candelaria, where our community partner is based, near the Universidad de Antioquia and el Jardín Botánico (the Botanical Garden). It feels more local, more lived-in with graffiti-covered walls and street vendors on every corner. The university itself is constantly buzzing, with classes running from 6 a.m. to 11 p.m. to fit students’ work schedules. You need a passport and a purpose to get in. Even then, it’s always packed— people working, talking, resting, just existing.

Motorcycles are everywhere. So are hills. The city is wrapped by barrios (neighborhoods) in the mountains, and the metrocable, a cable car system, makes it easy for those commuting from those barrios to the less elevated parts of the city. Because of these very uneven terrains, travelling to other major cities is most convenient when travelling by plane. One of the most unforgettable moments so far was our Uber ride to Cerro El Picacho, a gorgeous viewpoint overlooking the city. Our driver had to go backwards up and down steep, narrow roads, honking at every blind corner just to make it safely. It was both terrifying and honestly extremely impressive.

 

Danielle looking out over the city of Medellin in the night. There are tons of city lights.

Looking out over the city of Medellin from Cerro El Picacho, a beautiful viewpoint, especially at night!

Danielle and Valeria smiling with a cart in had right outside the Makro grocery store

Me and Valeria’s first time shopping at Makro, a giant grocery store! It’s probably most similar to a Sam’s Club or Costco in the U.S.

 

The Daily Essentials

At first, we Ubered everywhere— even if it was just a few blocks away. We were such scaredy cats, but it felt justifiable at the time as prices range from $1-5 USD. Plus, the sun sets early in Medellín— around 6 pm— and we weren’t exactly eager to be out exploring unfamiliar streets in the dark. Grocery runs were their own adventure. We started off buying huge jugs of water, only to later learn that Medellín’s tap water is actually some of the cleanest in the entire country. You also have to bring your own grocery bags and bag everything yourself— something that caught us off guard the first time. At the stores, there are almost always alternatives for unhealthy foods— plus, there are labels on everything that warn you if it’s high in sodium, sugar, or fat. The city is full of food markets, street vendors, and people selling everything from snacks to fresh fruit from carts or makeshift setups on the corners. If you order delivery, you’re probably using Didi or Rappi (their version of Uber Eats or DoorDash) and your deliverer is 100% on a motorbike!

 

 

An arepa, egg, rice, beans, chicken, and a slice of avocado

The typical Colombian dish! Protein, beans, rice, egg, plantain, an arepa, and a slice of avocado (if you’re lucky!)

Comuna 13 & Colombian Cuisine

One of the most memorable days so far was our visit to Comuna 13— a neighborhood once known as one of the most dangerous in the world, now transformed into a hub of street art, music, and resilience. We toured the area with a local guide who had lived through its darkest times and told us he had lost about 30% of his family (similar to others there) to the violence that once ruled the streets due to its prime location for transporting drugs. The stories were heavy, but the energy in the neighborhood today is full of life and color. Because of the landscape, there’s solar-powered outdoor escalators that help carry people up the steep hillside to their homes, and instead of major grocery stores (because the closest one is usually a 40 minute commute down), people often have mini-grocery stores in their homes! All the homes are typically made of the same orange brick material, which is one of the cheapest yet strongest available!

I was super excited to learn we would eat their way through the tour— I tried a buñuelo (a dough with crispy outside filled with cheese), an empanada (crispy corn pastry-like thing with sausage), a patacón con hogao (flat fried plantain with tomato paste), and a very refreshing mango popsicle (yum!). Traditional Colombian meals have their rhythm: red beans, rice, a simple salad, plantain, a protein, and an arepa— always accompanied by a limeade or some type of juice. Water, surprisingly, is rarely included and usually costs extra. Around La Candelaria, near our community partner, most restaurants and food stalls are cash-only, which we’ve learned the hard way. One day we came up $7,000 COP short (about $1.73 USD), and I had to do the “walk of shame” back to our community partner’s office to borrow money while Valeria waited behind at the restaurant (whose limeade cost exactly $7,000 COP by the way).

An escalator outside with solar panels on top

The escalator inside the Comuna 13 neighborhood powered by solar panels on top

View of the barrios (neighborhoods) in Comuna 13

Famous mural in Comuna 13 made during the time of Operation Orion in 1993. It was a symbol for leaving violence behind in the past and heading towards a better future.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

La Piedra in Guatapé

A very large rock, La Piedra, with stairs leading to the top

La Piedra, the infamous rock in Guatapé with over 700 steps to get to the top

Our first real interaction with other tourists came during a weekend trip to Guatapé, a colorful town a couple of hours outside of Medellín. We took a boat ride across the reservoir to La Manuela, one of Pablo Escobar’s former estates, now partially destroyed. The stories we heard there were surreal— like how his bathroom was blown up in a police raid, or how money was once hidden in the walls. The highlight came after another boat ride to La Piedra del Peñol— a massive granite rock with over 700 steps carved into its side. On the other side of the rock, you can see the partial letters “GU” (meant to eventually spell “GUATAPE”) from a land dispute between Guatape and El Peñol, a neighboring town, about who is the rightful owner of La Piedra. Turns out none of them were because after their fight over the matter, the rock was deemed property of Colombia. Anywho, the climb to the top was brutal, but the view at the top was insane. If you ever find yourself in Medellín, Guatape is definitely worth the pit stop!

Beautiful water and landscape scenery from high up. Small cars and roads can be seen.

The view from the top of La Piedra in Guatapé!

 

Danielle and Valeria posing in front of a table that has circuits on it. In the back is a large poster that reads "Inspiración".

Preparing for teaching in a class on renewable resources using circuits!

Working at Pygmalion Tech

I was thrown straight into learning about renewable resources— a topic I definitely had to brush up on. But I figured, if the kids could learn it, so could I. At Pygmalion, lessons center around “Conexión, Experimento y Reflexión,” and every session we teach kids kicks off with the same chant:

“Buenos días, amiguitos! ¿Cómo están? ¡Muy bien!

Este es un saludo de amistad. ¡Qué bien!

Haremos lo posible para ser buenos amigos. ¡Buenos días, amiguitos! ¿Cómo están? ¡Muy bien!”

Me and Valeria spent an entire afternoon quizzing each other on the lyrics. One of our sessions took place at Parque Arví, about an hour and a half drive out, where the views were breathtaking and the students were curious and engaged. The younger groups were easier to connect with, while the older ones took a little more effort. I was mostly on the sidelines, assisting and observing, but I’ll admit I was nervous the kids would catch on to the fact that their Spanish was stronger than mine but that luckily hasn’t been the case… yet. Afterward, we took the Metrocable back down, giving us a stunning overhead view of the city. It’s crazy to me that so many take this trip on the daily!

Now, we’re working more on research— looking at different competitors to help Pygmalion grow its impact and stay ahead in the world of ed-tech. The first week left me exhausted, not just from adjusting to a new routine, but from operating entirely in Spanish. But it’s definitely a learning process: now we’ve made various reports, presentations, and spreadsheets all in Spanish (so I’d say that’s progress)!

Scenic green landscape filled with trees! Photo taken from the metro car.

The view from the metrocable!

 

Reflecting and My Future in Medellín

Coming into this fellowship, I had a few clear goals: immerse myself in a new culture, contribute meaningfully to a social impact project, improve my Spanish, and generally just push myself outside beyond my comfort zone. This opportunity was a big one for me and brought about a lot of firsts. It’s my first time living on my own, my first real internship, and my first time traveling abroad. When I got the acceptance (which I wasn’t really expecting), my first thought was, “There’s no way I can actually say yes to this, right?” I was admittedly pretty terrified at the thought of going somewhere so emotionally and physically foreign at first. But the pre-departure course along with my travel buddy has helped ease my nerves and has shown me that I’m fully capable— of learning, contributing, and growing in this space. Looking ahead, I’m hoping to keep challenging myself: make new friends, try cooking different foods at our Airbnb, and soak in every experience— starting with a trip to Cartagena next week!!

Danielle, Valeria, and Owen with lifevests on on a boat

Me, Valeria, and Owen (a friendly face from Rice) on a boat!

 

At the end of the day, I’m so grateful for this opportunity and all the people who are a part of it. I can’t wait to continue growing and making memories through the rest of this fellowship!!

I’m happy to talk more about my experience at dfc5@rice.edu or dacolon17@gmail.com

A bird in grass

A bare-faced ibis outside our Airbnb (not quite a toucan but I’m sure this fella is friends with one!)

Until then, I will be on the search for a toucan! Ciao! 🇨🇴

Vos Sos Argentino

July 8th, 2025 by Abhi

Hi! My name is Abhi, and I’m a rising senior at McMurtry College! This summer, I traveled to Buenos Aires, Argentina to work with Enseñá Por Argentina (ExA)!

Traveling to Argentina has been among my most rewarding life experiences! While in Argentina, my learning extended beyond the practical use of my Spanish language skills. I found myself engaging with the culture, bonding with my team and others over our differences along the way. In doing so, I’ve made life-long friends and connections!

FOOD:

Before traveling to Argentina, I had a fear: I heard before that Argentina is often considered the meat capital of the world, and some even call it “La Tierra de Carne” (the land of meat). Indeed, this seemed to be true the first day I got here. I quickly learned just how integral milanesas were to the Argentine diet! There is no good comparison to Milanesas in America; in other words, there really is no singular food that, by itself, is eaten with such frequency here in the U.S.; while burgers, for example, are popular, it would be far-fetched to say that most Americans eat burgers several times a week. Milanesas, however, are eaten several days a week in many Argentine households and work environments. Beef, more generally, is a staple in Argentina, so much so that it was not uncommon to see restaurants simply named Res, meaning beef, or some variation of that. 

Being a vegetarian initially seemed to be a daunting challenge in Argentina. Countless questions asking for vegetarian options, however, quickly turned into me discovering a truth about Argentina: there’s always a way. Shortly, I discovered that Argentina was also home to tons of vegan and vegetarian options, and that people were always willing to accommodate you, just as long as you made an effort to connect with them. I also realized that several members of my team at ExA were also vegetarian/vegan, and that Buenos Aires is home to one of the largest growing vegetarian communities in the world. 

With time, I was trying vegetarian milanesas and guiso (a traditional meat stew, which I substituted with beans). I also tried locro, a traditional potato stew from the North of Argentina eaten on May 25th. In Argentina, the 25th of May has historic significance. This day marks the start of the May Revolution of 1810, in which Argentina’s first national government–the Primera Junta–was formed. 6 years later and in July, a formal declaration of independence from Spain would take place. It is tradition in Argentina to eat locro on May 25th, as during the revolution times, this was all that people could afford. Keeping with traditions, I also ate locro on May 25th!

My favorite moments food-wise, however, were in the office as we worked. Each morning, several members of the team would bring snacks into the office – anything from Argentine croissants to cookies to cheerios. The very first day, in fact, they brought in churros! Another time, one of my ExA teammates brought in these special alfajores (cookies with dulce de leche filling) from a company called Capitán Del Espacio. Needless to say, they were very good!

There are tons of elaborate murals across the city

Posters and murals of Messi are everywhere!

CULTURAL DIFFERENCES:

My dietary restrictions actually led to another discovery of mine: while religion and politics are often shied away from on first-encounters in America, they are often discussed in Argentina. It was always interesting hearing the political views of those around the office. It also always amazed me to see how open the team was to learning about my culture.

Another cultural difference was how common yerba mate is. Yerba mate, more commonly known as just mate, is a tea drunk in Argentina. Small cups called “mates” are filled with yerba (herb) and hot water, and to drink it, a metal straw is used (called a bombilla). The tea is shared amongst team mates and passed from one to another. Mate is an integral part of Argentine culture and the Argentine experience. When walking around town, it is common to see people carrying their mate as well as a jug of hot water with them, regardless of the day. At the airport, for example, I saw people drinking mate just before going through security! Even when walking through markets or on the streets, people would carry their mate in one hand and a jug of extra water attached to a strap and wrapped across their body. 

Dinner with one of our coordinators!

Getting dinner with one of the coordinators who helped organize the fellowship with ExA was also a fun time to get to hear more about Argentina’s history, our cultural differences, and have some fun discussions about fútbol, all over some great food!

TOURING THE CITY:

At ExA, they always made an effort to include us in on activities to learn more about Argentina and explore its rich history. One of those activities was the opportunity to tour the city of Buenos Aires on one of our free weekends. During the visit, we learned more about how literature and the city’s architecture intersect. 

A famous poem inscribed into a building in Buenos Aires!

We started from la Plaza de Mayo before using the subway system to get around the city and see some historic sites. However, more interesting than the historic sites were the everyday buildings that were seamlessly tied to the country’s history. Argentina itself has a large influence from countries like Italy, and in Recoleta, there is a larger influence from France, at least in terms of the architecture. For example, many of the buildings had mansard roofs. 

French-influenced architecture on the streets of Buenos Aires

More French-influenced architecture

We finished off the cultural tour with a group picture, after which we explored the local market and had a picnic!

A picture of our team hearing from our “tour guides” (other members of the ExA team) during our cultural tour of the city!

A TRIP TO RIVERDAR:

Beyond our cultural differences, my biggest surprise was the River DAR schooling system.

Can you imagine a middle and high school in America that’s main purpose is to turn out super stars in football? Or maybe a school focused entirely on tennis or baseball or basketball? That’s exactly what River DAR is. River DAR is a specialized school in Argentina that operates with the main goal of turning out some of the best fútbol stars, all while providing them a well-rounded education in math, the sciences, literature, language, and more. 

One of my favorite moments from the RiverDAR visit was getting to speak with the students. As a group, we went into several classrooms to watch the professors teach, with many of them formerly part of the ExA team, to see how we could integrate what we learned from the visits into our office work. 

When we entered, within minutes, I was seated at the students’ tables. “¿Cuánto cuestan los botines en Estados Unidos?” How much do soccer cleats cost in the U.S.? “Y la comida y ropa?” And what about food and clothing? They were a little surprised to learn that food at restaurants sometimes costs quite a bit more here in Argentina than in the average American city.

It wasn’t long before they asked me, “River o Boca,” referring to the historic rivalry between the two best soccer teams in the country (and among the best in the world). I must have answered correctly with River (given that we were at River Dar, the school affiliated with the River Plate soccer team), as they went cheering upon hearing that!

Our team picture at River DAR

My favorite question, however, was from Leo: “Sabes la respuesta correcta?” Do you know the right answer? They were doing a unit in their science class about how common recycling was in the United States. With a little help, he got a 10 out of 10 on that assignment!

It was incredible hearing more from the students about their interest in soccer and their goals. I learned that River DAR was also a boarding school. When I asked the students where they lived, they said in the stadium. In the stadium? Yes, quite literally in the stadium. I questioned further, and they showed me photos of their dorms around the interior of the stadium, with their windows facing the field. 

When I asked the students where they were from, I realized that a good portion were from nowhere close to Buenos Aires, with some from rural cities near Patagonia (the very South of Argentina) and others from Salta (the very North of Argentina). Most of the students’ stories were incredibly different, but the one unifying factor was that their soccer talent was recognized by River DAR, and they were given scholarships to attend the school, all with the hope to one day don the Red, Black, and White of River Plate’s official team.

CLOSING THOUGHTS:

In short, I am so grateful to my incredible team for having given me this unforgettable experience in Argentina. I have never felt so immediately included into a new working environment as I did in Argentina. I am appreciative for all the small little conversations, charlas, here and there, that taught me so much about Argentina and its rich history. What I’ve learned here in Argentina will undoubtedly continue to inform my life in the future.

Argentina, I’ll be back shortly!

If the Medellín Metro Could Speak

August 15th, 2024 by Melissa Mar

This summer, I spent 10 weeks abroad in the City of Eternal Spring, Medellín, Colombia. During this time, my days varied greatly, but one thing remained consistent: nearly every day began and ended on the metro. The metro took me everywhere I needed to go and everywhere I wanted to be. On lucky days, I found a seat; on others, I was packed tightly among fellow commuters. Some mornings, I boarded yawning and weary, longing to still be in bed. Other mornings, I could hardly contain my excitement about the day ahead. In the evenings, I frequently boarded feeling exhausted, struggling to keep my eyes open. From time to time, I was drenched from the unpredictable rain that no weather app could forewarn. Sometimes, I boarded with a smile on my face; other times, with tears in my eyes. I often think that if anyone could tell the story of my time abroad better than I could, it would be the metro—if only it could speak.

Medellín Metro Rail

Medellín Metro Rail

The Medellín Metro has been the gateway to many great adventures in the city, while also reliably ensuring my safe arrival to my Loewenstern Placement on workdays. My commute this summer was quite extensive. It began with a Metro bus ride to the rail station, followed by a 10-stop journey on Line A through the heart of the city. After disembarking, a short walk took me to the office. Of course, I always made sure to stop by the nearby bakery for breakfast before heading into work. I had a fantastic experience working with my placement at Pygmalion Tech. My primary responsibilities involved developing two Python courses: one designed to introduce students to programming and another aimed at teaching adults the basics of data science. These projects were a great opportunity for me to refine my skills and improve my ability to communicate complex ideas effectively, which was both challenging and deeply rewarding. I found that my lengthy commute provided the perfect time to brainstorm and revise my course content. On several occasions, I rushed from the metro to work to jot down the plethora of ideas that I feared I would forget.

Bakery Near My Placement

Beyond facilitating my daily commutes, the Medellín Metro also marked the start and end of many adventures. One of the most memorable was the long and winding bus ride to the trailhead of a popular hike in the Medellín countryside. I vividly recall struggling to keep my balance while standing on the moving bus, gripping the support bars with all my might, and doing my best to avoid falling onto the strangers who would soon become friends. Thanks to social media, I was able to connect with a group of locals who organized weekly excursions and joined them for my first hike on the outskirts of Medellín. We met at one of the Metro rail stops and traveled together to the trailhead. During our hike to El Chorro de las Campanas, the breathtaking waterfall that was our ultimate destination, I enjoyed wonderful conversations with my new companions. This experience was one of the first that made me feel less isolated in Medellín, the warmth of the people was quite different from the chill of the waterfall. Swimming in the refreshing waters was a soul-cleansing experience, and that evening, I boarded the metro rail, covered in mud, exhausted, but so incredibly happy.

El Chorro de las Campanas

Another adventure the metro facilitated was my journey to Comuna 13, a neighborhood in Medellín with a complex yet inspiring history. Once considered the most dangerous part of the city due to paramilitary, guerrilla, and gang violence, it has now become one of the city’s most popular tourist attractions, celebrated for its powerful and historical street art. I was fortunate to take a tour with a local resident who had lived in Comuna 13 his entire life. He shared his personal experiences of living through the area’s tumultuous past and narrated the remarkable transformation of the community through creativity. Visiting this historically rich area and hearing from a local so proud of his neighborhood’s evolution was an incredibly eye-opening experience.

Comuna 13

A unique experience the Medellín Metro offers is the metro cable system. Two of these cables serve as the main transportation to another one of Medellín’s top attractions, Parque Arví. The views from the metro cables are breathtaking, offering a stunning panorama of Medellín as you ascend higher and higher. However, they are not for the faint of heart—the cables go so high that your ears start to pop. Parque Arví itself is a stunning escape from the city, though in a city as vibrant as Medellín, it’s hard to imagine wanting to escape. I spent hours sitting in silence by the running water and dipping my feet in the streams of Parque Arví. I loved it so much that I brought a few Loewenstern fellows back with me.

Parque Arví

Of my countless experiences on the metro, my greatest memory is one of simply standing in the metro rail car on the night of July 10th. There was nothing extraordinary about this night, yet everything was special. When I hopped onto the train that evening, I was immediately brought to tears. I looked around, and almost everyone on that train was wearing the same color—a bright yellow that was hard to look at for too long, but even harder to look away from. The shirts had touches of blue and red, all jerseys for the Colombian national soccer team who were playing that night in the Copa America games, with their fate of reaching the final on the line.

The sight made me emotional in ways I couldn’t fully explain. To put it simply, I was wearing the same colors, the same jersey, and in that moment, I felt a profound connection to this community, sharing their excitement, pride, and joy for the national team. I was on my way to watch the game, hoping for a victory for Colombia. Although I had never been a huge soccer fan, I found myself deeply invested in this team’s success. I am Mexican to the core, but that night I was all in for Colombia.

Being surrounded by such a passionate community made it impossible not to cry. I would not trade my time on the metro for anything in the world, and I am profoundly grateful to have spent a summer in Medellín where these unforgettable moments were made possible for me.

Copa America Watch Party

¡Buenas! Loewenstern Summer 2024 in Bogotá and More

July 31st, 2024 by Siddhant Patil

Arrival into Colombia

As soon as I landed in Bogotá, the reality of being in a country where less than 1% of people speak English quickly set in. The fact that just about everything was labeled in Spanish added to my initial nervousness, and the size of the El Dorado airport, one of the largest in South America, didn’t help either. However, this nervousness was quickly eased by the friendly driver who picked me up. This car ride was my first real experience speaking exclusively Spanish, and after we introduced ourselves for a bit, he asked if I had ever heard of Vallenato. Admitting that I hadn’t, he then introduced me to some of his favorite music, Vallenato being a traditional genre from northern Colombia where he was from.

Unrefrigerated Eggs and Milk in Carulla (kind of like a Colombian Whole Foods)

The next morning before our meeting with the community partner, Meghan Paral (the other Loewenstern Fellow in Bogotá) and I decided to do some quick grocery shopping, where I was surprised to see that eggs and milk weren’t refrigerated. The first of many interesting differences between the US and Colombia. Later that day, at Pontificia Universidad Javeriana, which was the community partner we’d be working with, our mentor Dr. Diego Patiño explained the tasks and goals for this summer placement. He also encouraged us to use long weekends and holidays to explore Colombia and gave us a lot of flexibility, allowing us to develop the project how we wanted as well as visit many parts of the country.

Kind family who took Meghan and I out for dinner

The kind family that took me and Meghan out for dinner

I did feel a little homesick in the beginning, especially knowing I would be in Colombia for the next several months. Luckily, these feelings disappeared pretty quickly by staying connected to my family through FaceTime calls and sending pictures to them just about every day. The busy schedule of working on the project, preparing and submitting my medical school applications, and exploring the country definitely helped a lot as well. A couple of days after landing, we decided to visit the Museo del Oro in Bogotá. There, we met a group of professors from a local university who kindly recommended places to visit and things to do in the city. Later that day at the museum, I saw an Indian family and decided to strike up a conversation about what brought them to Colombia. They said they loved traveling and had explored much of South America, and we had a great time talking about their past travels and future plans in Colombia. A couple of days later, they treated me and Meghan to dinner, which was really nice of them. This was just the beginning of many such great encounters throughout the trip.

 

 

Kuisa

Riding on the roof of a pickup truck on the way from Kuisa to Riohacha

Riding on the roof of a pickup truck on the way from Kuisa to Riohacha

In the small village of Kuisa, located in the La Guajira District of Colombia, lies a school that PUJ Bogotá is working with to introduce various technologies, such as solar panels and access to computers and tablets. Traveling there was an adventure in itself. The journey involved a plane ride from Bogotá to Riohacha, followed by a four-hour car ride to Uribia, the indigenous capital of Colombia, and another four-hour drive on dirt “roads” to Kuisa. During our first trip back, we experienced a flat tire, causing us to arrive at the airport just 20 minutes before our flight’s departure. On our second trip, there was a lack of space in the pickup truck since there were a lot of things stored in the truck bed, so some of us rode on the roof. The unexpectedness eventually became something to expect.

Sunset in Kuisa

Sunset in Kuisa

In Kuisa, our days started early with the sun rising around 5:30 am, and we had breakfast around 6:30 am before the school day, which usually ran from 7:00 am until 12:30 pm. After lunch, nearly everyone would take a nap, a practice I grew to enjoy. There also weren’t any beds, instead everyone used hammocks. Afternoons were spent either talking with the teachers to better understand the schooling system or exploring the area around Kuisa with the kids, which included a nice trip to the nearby lagoon. We’d have dinner after sundown, and due to the scarcity of clean water, we often drank chicha (a fermented corn drink) or bottled soda. I probably drank more Coca-Cola in those weeks than I had in my entire life.

Laguna De Kuisa and surrounding mountains

At the school in Kuisa, we conducted various workshops and activities. Our first visit was fortunate to have internet connectivity, but by our second visit, the internet tower had broken, and they weren’t sure when it would be repaired. Thankfully, the previous Loewenstern Fellow, Caleb Huang, had downloaded several interactive science and math tools that didn’t require internet access. These tools were a hit with the students, many of whom had never used computers before. Watching their faces light up as they explored these new tools was incredibly rewarding, and some students enjoyed them so much that they even asked to use the computers during their free periods. We also hosted workshops about teamwork for the younger students, one of which was a competition to see which team could build the tallest tower using straws. They seemed to enjoy this a lot, and the candy we brought as prizes added to their enjoyment.

Learning about the indigenous Wayuu culture was another highlight for me. During our second visit, Señor Adelco, who is the leader of the community, taught me about the traditional Wayuu religion. He shared that the lagoon and mountains around Kuisa were believed to contain spirits, and it was common practice to make offerings to promote prosperity. Although he mentioned that everyone in Kuisa is Catholic, these were some of the ancient beliefs of his culture. As a religion major, this conversation was particularly meaningful to me. Drawing parallels between this form of spirit veneration with Shinto in Japan and various tribal faiths in India deepened my appreciation for indigenous religions.

Exploring Colombia

Visiting Cartagena with Melissa and Alec (the Loewenstern Fellows placed in Medellín)

Exploring Colombia outside Bogotá and Kuisa was just as enriching as my experiences in those places. I had the opportunity to visit several major cities, each with its own unique charm, including Medellín, the coastal cities of Cartagena, Barranquilla, and Santa Marta, as well as Riohacha.

In Medellín, I had the chance to spend several days with the Quillacinga and Los Pastos indigenous groups, and learning about their traditional medicine was fascinating. The tribe’s deep understanding of nature was evident as each tree and plant had a particular use, and they’d just pick fruits off the trees to share them with me. Their extensive knowledge of natural remedies and their connection to the environment was truly inspiring, giving me an insight into the way humans have lived for thousands of years. Traveling to Cartagena and the nearby cities, Meghan and I met with Melissa and Alec, the other Loewenstern fellows who flew in from Medellín. In these coastal cities, the vibe was completely different, and we spent a lot of time visiting the beach and late-night bar hopping.

Looking over the city of Bogotá from the summit of Monserrate

One of my favorite activities during our travels was climbing mountains. I climbed Monserrate in Bogotá several times, Cerro de las Tres Cruces in Medellín, and a random mountain near Kuisa, guided by the local kids. This mountain in Kuisa, referred to as Uchi, was particularly challenging to climb since there was no path like the other mountains, just clearings between the thorny bushes and cacti. The views from the tops of all of them were breathtaking, and I would spend upwards of an hour or two just listening to music and enjoying the natural beauty from there.

Everywhere we went, I noticed that people were pretty curious about my background. When I mentioned I lived in the United States, the follow-up question was almost always, “But where are you really from?” I actually liked it a lot because it was a way to share my Indian culture. Many people were fascinated by the food that Indians ate, and when I told them that 30% of the country is vegetarian, they were pretty surprised. Sharing Indian music with the locals was also a joy, and I was surprised to see just how pervasive Indian culture was. In the big cities, there were always Indian restaurants, but even in the village of Kuisa, one of the school teachers liked watching Indian TV shows dubbed in Spanish, and Señor Adelco was looking at Facebook on his phone when I was pleasantly surprised to hear a song from the famous Bollywood movie “3 Idiots.”

Homemade Coconut Egg Curry

I liked exploring Colombian cuisine, from meals like Ajiaco, Sancocho, and Mojarra to street food like Patacones con Queso, Arepas, Obleas, Limonada de Coco, and mangos with lemon and salt. I did cook a decent amount too, and the affordability of produce encouraged me to cook even more. I often cooked salmon since it was easy to make, and when I craved Indian food, I’d make egg curry using fresh coconuts. Cracking open the coconut and using the stove to separate the inside from the shell was always fun. Near where we were staying in Bogotá’s Zona G, there was also a lot of international cuisine, so we often went out for sushi, Indian food, burgers and pizza, Greek food, and so, so many desserts.

Lunch with students and faculty from Rice University and PUJ Bogotá, including Dr. César Uribe and Dr. Diego Patiño

Conclusion

Reflecting on my time in Colombia, I understand how profoundly this experience has impacted me. From the busy cities of Colombia to the serene village of Kuisa, every encounter deepened my appreciation for different peoples’ ways of life. The challenges faced throughout my time here, such as missing flights, dealing with dietary restrictions, the scarcity of water in Kuisa and the water being shut off weekly in our apartment, and the intermittent internet access, were all surpassed by innumerable positives. Babysitting and playing with Kashi, Señor Adelco’s granddaughter, teaching bird calls to the kids in La Guajira, stargazing in Kuisa, seeing the football games being streamed on every TV in the apartment building across the street in Bogotá, enjoying the amazing fruits and food, and most importantly meeting all the wonderful people here made this journey truly unforgettable. The level of independence I gained and learning to embrace the situation when things didn’t go my way were just some of the many takeaways for me as I spent my summer in this beautiful country. As I move forward, I carry these lessons I’ve learned and the memories I’ve made, grateful for the chance to immerse myself in Colombia’s vibrant and diverse culture.

Hiking Without a Trail in Colombia

July 31st, 2024 by Meghan Paral

Siddhant and I arrived in Colombia on the 21st of May with a struggling knowledge of Spanish, clothes for every season, and an acceptable amount of trepidation for the coming summer. It was our first time setting foot on the South American continent, and I was insufficiently prepared to be unprepared for all that I didn’t know.

Our community partner, Pontificia Universidad Javeriana, has been wonderful and gracious, offering us the opportunity to self-direct our project with the school Nuestra Señora del Carmen Zona de Kuisa in La Guajira. We were granted an amount of agency over everything from the schedules of our working hours to our travels that I had never experienced before. At first, the idea of such independence, as someone who greatly appreciates structure, was nerve-wracking; however, the more we tested the waters of spontaneity and self-sufficiency, the easier and more enjoyable it became.

The stars in Kuisa – notice: what looks like the setting sun is actually the moon! It’s unbelievably bright without urban light pollution.

Last week, we traveled for the second time to the community of Kuisa in rural La Guajira, Colombia. This requires a flight from Bogotá to the city of Riohacha, a four-hour drive from Riohacha to Uribia, and another four-hour drive from the nearest urban center of Uribia to Kuisa. At night, the absence of light pollution means the multitude of stars are indescribable, creating a startlingly beautiful backdrop to an already awe-inspiring setting of mountains and desert vegetation. One afternoon, Siddhant suggested climbing the nearest mountain, and on that whim, we set off on a three-hour hike to climb a mountain on the horizon without a trail.

The view from atop the mountain – In Wayuunaiki, the language spoken by the Wayuu people, mountain is uchi

Sure, I was impaled by a few cacti along the way, but it was more than worth it. The walk there, stopping every so often to see a new bird or lizard, hearing about Wayuu culture from the kids who came along, and sitting atop the boulders implanted in the side of the mountain, overlooking the “trail” or lack thereof that we’d taken to get there. It was, I think, a cumulative metaphor of all that had occurred during our experience in Colombia, although I didn’t realize it at the time. We were, more or less, hiking without a trail this whole summer. There had been challenging situations and periods of discomfort, and yet, I found myself sitting at the top of the mountain more adaptable and comfortable with the discomfort – grateful, in one way or another – for every experience.

That being said, I do think that one thing in particular helped me stay grounded in the midst of lacking a certain structure that I had become accustomed to back home: birds! Colombia, you may be aware,

From upper right to bottom left: Eared Dove, Tropical Mockingbird, Scaled Dove, Great Egret, American Flamingo, Vermilion Flycatcher, Rufous Collared Sparrow, Sparkling Violetear

is host to more species of birds than any other country on Earth, at over 1,900. We barely scratched the surface of that incredible quantity, but here are some of the incredible individuals that we did manage to spot:

There’s a lot of joy to be found in seeing a species for the first time, and for that reason, a lot of people search for birds that are endemic to the country that they are visiting. That being said, I think there’s a lot of slept-on happiness to uncover when seeing a bird for the zillionth time in a new location. The house sparrow, for example, can be found in as broad a range as eastern Australia, Argentina, India,

Iceland, South Africa, and, where I associate it with most, my home. That being said, they aren’t particularly common in Colombia, so spotting a perfectly spherical little guy hopping his way across the table in a restaurant in Riohacha took me by surprise. Finding a house sparrow in Riohacha meant finding a little piece of home in Colombia, and, after spending ten weeks abroad, that was a poignant gift.

As our journey in Colombia draws to a close, I am filled with a deep sense of gratitude for the experiences we’ve had and the people we’ve met. The lessons learned, both expected and unexpected, have shaped me in ways I couldn’t have imagined. From the independence and spontaneity we embraced to the natural and avian wonders we discovered, this summer has been an adventure. I leave Colombia with a lot of memories, a newfound appreciation for flexibility, and an enduring connection to a place that, for a brief but impactful time, felt like home.

Thank you to Siddhant for photos!

The Frozen Moments in a Typhoon

July 31st, 2024 by Mira Goldstein

The week before arriving in Taiwan, I traveled to four states, ate six mini United Airlines Biscoff cookies and walked over 140,000 steps. I chase adventure and opportunities to experience new places, meet new people, and try new things. I knew my summer plans needed to be in a completely unfamiliar environment that required quick problem-solving. When I challenge my brain, I feel most alive. But as much as I love exploring, the first two weeks of any trip challenge me the most. The slow moments of orientation, not having friends yet and not understanding my new environment flash nostalgic memories of the comforts of home. It always takes two weeks to make friends, find my footing, and establish the feeling of a home away from home. This slow time evokes my fear of standing still, wasting time in a place I’ve wanted to visit for so long.

I currently live in the land of Chinese idioms, big tales boiled down to a few characters. These shared narratives, like 望梅止渴 (gazing at plums to quench thirst), give shape to Mandarin and condense a feeling into words. This idiom reflects the longing for something that seems satisfying from afar but may not fulfill the expectations when experienced. When I adjust to new surroundings, I can’t explore at a whim, and as the idiom describes, I’m stuck longing for distant expectations. This is exactly the fear of standing still.

In my last week in Taiwan, Typhoon Gaemi devastates the area with horrific flooding and wind damage. The isolation of staying inside rekindles the homesickness I felt at the beginning of my trip. With little time left, I have a strong urge to make the most of my travel experience. The weather is completely out of my control; I reluctantly accept the realities of a typhoon ravaging the beautiful country I am eager to explore.

Stuck on the third floor of my homestay, I struggle to pass the time. The typhoon amplifies the sense that each day in Taiwan feels like a countdown until my next meal. After I ate 蛋餅, a Taiwanese pancake-egg omelet that my host family graciously made me, I needed three hours of activities before I could eat lunch. I started by listening to music, crafting, watching YouTube, cleaning my room and all my other quarantine activities. After a few hours, I sat in bed and contemplated why I could not rest peacefully like I had been able to in 2020. Why was time passing so slowly?

The main difference between quarantine and typhoon sheltering comes from the lack of connection. During quarantine, my house buzzed with my whole family ready for spontaneous game nights, baking challenges and long drives. During the typhoon, my host mother, brother and I isolate in our rooms to work. When we reunite at night to eat dinner, exhaustion exacerbates their ability to switch from their mother language Taiwanese to the Mandarin I am learning. My loneliness intensifies in our misunderstandings.

On a normal day, I am only at my host family’s house to sleep. I leave the house at 5 am for my university’s karate club that I joined then go directly to the lab. I often return home at 10-11 pm after eating dinner and adventuring with local friends. The added barrier of my host mother’s damaged hearing and preference to speak Taiwanese keeps us at a distance. Although I rarely see them, we maintain our connection through small gift-giving. I leave paper flowers around the house, and when I return home from lab, there are small treats and plastic jewels dispersed across my room like a treasure hunt. 

My host family and I at Kenting National Park.

Instead of paper flowers, to overcome a similar challenge of connecting with my lab mates, I surprise them with Trader Joe’s snacks and help them complete lab tasks through the night. Working at a lab is a completely immersive Chinese experience, and being in an environmental engineering lab requires even more nuanced and technical language. I spend hours after lab translating terms like “activated carbon,” “massspectroscopy,” “isotope” and other scientific words whose English meanings I don’t even fully understand. As much as I try to keep up, I am always a step behind.

In addition to lab work, my lab partners and I eat most meals out together: breakfast after karate club, lunch after group meeting and dinner when we end our last experiments. Just like how my friends in the US and I eat lunch, we have very quick back-and-forth conversations that rapidly switch topics. I always struggle to follow their conversations and often feel isolated. To maintain our friendship, my lab mates and I creatively search for other ways to spend time together outside of the quick lunch talks and technical lab discussions, such as exploring Taiwan together. They are very excited to take me to their favorite restaurants, night markets and local shops.

Midnight ice cream with my friends at lab.

Our adventures halt during the typhoon as the whole city shuts down, and it is too windy to ride my bike to visit anyone. My support systems for overcoming isolation crumble against the strength of the typhoon. As I lay hopelessly bored, I realize my problem with sheltering inside is that I can’t maintain connection in the same way. I struggle inside because I have been lucky enough to find my footing in Taiwan. The more at home I feel with Taiwanese culture and around the love of my new friends, the harder it becomes for me to say goodbye. The typhoon in the last week of my summer abroad prepares me for how to maintain a connection from afar. How can I stay connected to the friends I have made when they are thousands of miles away? I can’t rely on FaceTime as I do with my friends in the US because I built my relationships here on shared adventures and our language barrier makes communication more challenging.

During the typhoon, I send friends short videos showing them random funny things I am doing, and they respond with their own videos. I hope we can continue to connect across the world despite the oceans and languages attempting to separate us.

A Gringo’s Thoughts on Brazil

July 31st, 2024 by Beck Edwards

Yeah, interning in São Paulo for the past 10 weeks at Mackenzie Presbyterian University has helped me make progress towards my career. But I completely underestimated how much this experience would cause me to reflect on myself, grow, and develop new habits and ways of thinking — I guess you can’t really know how a big mysterious change will affect you until after the fact. While I can’t exaggerate how wonderful of an academic opportunity this has been, through my internship with Mackenzie, as well as the neuroscience lab I worked in there, I’m want to write instead about my thoughts related to Brazilian culture and lifestyle from the perspective of a “gringo” (the lighthearted nickname Brazilians give foreigners). So, here are a couple of the most important lessons I have learned through the crazy adventure of adapting to a new country for the first time in my life.

1. American Icons Abroad

When I first arrived here, one of the first thoughts that hit me was: Wow, why is fresh, unprocessed food so cheap here? Stranger yet, all the large American restaurant chains were often more expensive than freshly cooked, healthier, and fuller options at “padarias” and snack bars. One time, I ordered a big mac burger from a McDonald’s, assuming I would get my food instantly. However, I was mind-boggled when 5 minutes of waiting became 10, which became 20. “American Fast Food,” in other words, is ironically often one of the slower options in Brazil.

Tasty salgados at a padaria

So why in the heck is anyone buying this stuff? Well the answer’s in the name: In the US, people buy American Fast Food because it’s fast — in Brazil, they buy it because it’s American. And it’s not just American food brands like McDonald’s, Popeyes, Burger King, and KFC — this trend is no less subtle in American (and European) clothing brands like GAP and Zara, technology brands like Apple, and film studios like Disney. It goes farther than just companies, too. I learned from an architecture professor at Mackenzie University that much of the architecture in Brazil is heavily influenced from Europe to make it more chic: I have seen numerous mansions designed with gabled roofs, which is completely pointless since it never snows here.

More shocking is how many young people speak English in São Paulo. True, it’s not like living in the United States — you can’t get around without knowing at least some Portuguese (since almost nobody my parent’s age or older speaks a lick of English). But chances are, if I try speaking to anyone living comfortably in their teens or twenties, they will try to respond to me in English. Learning English is a skill seen by all as attractive, and to some people, expected. It is common here for parents to send their children to schools where some or all classes are taught in English, and if you take a look at the many flyers taped to street lamps around São Paulo, it isn’t hard to find an advertisement for English lessons. 

I have spent tons of my time here trying hard to learn Portuguese from scratch — and I am so grateful for the never-ending compliments and encouragement I receive when talking to Brazilians in their language (very rudimentarily, by the way). Learning a new language from scratch is hard, but luckily Mackenzie offered me and Dara, my travel partner, biweekly language lessons, plus I always had an endless supply of Brazilian students to practice with during the internship. But it makes me sad when I compare my language learning experience with theirs. Most of the English-speaking Brazilians I have met are so much more fluent in English than I am in Portuguese (even now, after almost 3 months living here) and impressively, a large number of them have never even stepped foot in an English speaking country. So many Brazilians who speak to me in English become embarrassed and apologize for their grammar or pronunciation, even though I can almost always understand them perfectly. Whenever I speak Portuguese to Brazilians, though, they are simply excited to hear me speak their language at all, whether I can communicate myself or not. 

Unfortunately, these double standards between speaking English and Portuguese are only growing farther apart. One of the primary ways the presence of English in Brazil spreads is through media, especially entertainment content consumed by children. Whenever I asked especially fluent English speakers here how they learned the language, most of them referenced Disney movies, American TV shows, music, or communication through video games. And whenever someone tells me they’ve been to the United States before, I am right about 70% of the time when I guess they’ve seen Disney World. Heck, I’m willing to bet that most of the friends I have met here have seen more animated American movies than I have!

What I have come to notice is how much of an impact virtual global connectivity has had on spreading American culture. For one, the generational difference in knowledge of English language and culture is astounding. For instance, I met a friend here in São Paulo who is completely fluent in English, and her 13-year-old younger brother is fluent too. He told me he learned English primarily through American Hip Hop music and Minecraft YouTube videos. Just earlier today, I visited their house with Dara to pick up a couple things we left there, and we had a conversation (in English) with the two siblings in front of their mom. While we talked, their mother kept staring at her son then back at us, and finally, after about 10 minutes she exclaimed: “Entendem o que ele tá dizendo?!” (“You can understand what he’s saying?!”). She was so surprised because she had no idea her son was able to communicate seamlessly with native English speakers like me and Dara — we were the first two Americans he had ever spoken to face-to-face, in fact. After all, our friend and her brother were the only people in the entire family who knew any English, so how could she know his fluency?

It’s not just our friend’s family — we have met dozens of other Brazilians around our age who learned English independently from their families, through a desire to consume American media. Consumption of media is both problematic and vindicating for Brazillians. For instance, Mackenzie University took us to a Guaraní indigenous people reserve in a forest located in a neighborhood in the northwest region of São Paulo called Jaraguá. There, a Guaraní representative expressed to us their concerns due to a growing rebellion against the Guaraní way by the youngest generation, who had found access to the internet. Walking around the area, it was clear many of the kids were disconnected from the world their parents were in, some wearing branded clothing and others listening to music with headphones. Many of these children, we learned, felt ennui at learning the Guaraní language, too, further threatening such a deep-rooted culture. 

On the other side of things, big entertainment media has given Brazilians the means to, as they put it, “reverse-colonize” Portugal. See, Brazilian Portuguese and culture is incredibly different from the Portuguese spoken in Portugal due to the large influence of various diasporas, indigenous populations, and immigration. In fact, the Portuguese in either country may as well be classified as an entirely different language! Before social media became so popular, Brazilian culture was not able to spread back to Portugal very easily due to the distance and a lack of Brazilian immigrants. In the past 5 years, though, immigration from Brazil to Portugal has sharply increased and Brazilians are already the most populous foreign group there. Through the means of social media and immigration, many Brazilians tease, Portugal is slowly transforming into a land where Brazilian slang, memes, and popular culture are felt throughout. 

But at the same time that the Guaraní and Portugal culture is being influenced by popular Brazilian culture, Brazilian culture is becoming influenced more by English-speaking entertainment media. I always knew that this was happening in foreign countries, but it’s a different story to see American influence firsthand. It’s weird to go to a bar and hear Katy Perry or Coldplay on the speakers and see all the most expensive drinks listed in English to make them sound fancier, all the while surrounded by people speaking Portuguese, with a shareable bucket of salty Brazilian pastels on their table. After all, the food is fresher here, the music is addictive, and I would even say the language is more interesting than English — there are certain words that are untranslatable to English like “saudade” which describes the feeling of missing someone dearly or “cafuné” which means affectionately running one’s fingers through another’s hair. I guess what I’m trying to say is, the Brazilian style is wonderful, and it seems crazy to me for a place with such great traditions and an awesome way of life to idolize the US when it comes to mainstream culture. 

Pastel and Caldo de Cana (sugar cane juice) at a Traditional Feira

 

2. How to Live

If you have ever visited Brazil, you’ll likely agree with me when I say that it feels like Brazilians have a certain zest for life. Most of my friends here, as well as random people I meet at events, bars, and stores are really good social navigators, in touch with their emotions, and seem to live life fuller than most Americans I know. The whole concept of anxiety here is either deflated or it’s expressed in different ways which cause people to be less closed-off from each other than in the US. There’s a bigger emphasis on separation of life and work, and my friend once told me Brazilians are used to “trabalhando bastante a boca” (loosely translated: “working a lot by mouth”) meaning they talk a lot at work.

One time I went to a bar with my friend who studies law and she introduced me to some friends she made the week prior who were video game developers (sidenote: a law degree here is awarded as an undergraduate degree, and you can start practicing law just 5 years after graduating high school. The same goes for medicine which takes 6 years!). It was kind of a funny experience because it seemed like the entire game studio was there: there were voice actors, script writers, graphic designers, coders, and bug testers. At this point, I had only been in Brazil for around 3 weeks, and my Portuguese was terrible. But the crazy thing is, even though I was surrounded by all these people I had just met who were speaking a different language with each other, I didn’t feel out of place. My friend and the game studio people were excited to talk to me, and they even invited me to a party at their house just 30 minutes after I introduced myself!

People are so eager to reach out and mix in São Paulo, both emotionally and physically. From the way you greet people (women with a hug and a kiss on the cheek and men with a handshake and semi-embrace), to the way many Brazilians will share their gossip with you less than an hour after meeting them, to the normality of public french kissing — at first it kind of felt to me like the skin on everyone’s skin was replaced by plexiglass, their whole beings open on display. But it is hard not to appreciate how open and expressive people are, and how much less present the embarrassment is to express some part of your true self always. Why have I not been faster to open myself up to people when I first meet them, and so averse to expressing myself more, I wonder? It feels so much better to treat everyone like your friend until they’re not than the other way around.

Eating a Mortadela Sandwich

Brazil knows how to throw parties. First they’ve got “festa juninas,” country-themed, family-oriented parties thrown by elementary/high schools with loaded hot dogs and pastel (fried dough with filling) where students perform their rehearsed dances for everyone. There are also samba street parties where performers play musical instruments like the Cavaquinho and Pandeiro to a fast 3-step beat and people drink as they “sambar” (the verb form of samba which means to dance samba style). Then there are the clubs and college parties. Since the drinking age is only 18 here, college students don’t have to resort to drinking behind closed doors, and parties often have open bars. It’s popular to mix energy drinks with shots, and the Brazilian funk music doesn’t usually stop until 5am or around sunrise.

Going to these parties and social events has been a great way to meet new people here — especially since most people are excited to meet gringos. Every day, I feel more as if the most important part of this experience is the people I’ve met along the way. It helps that I’m in a faraway place where nobody knows who I am, but I have a feeling being here has made me more comfortable approaching people, too. 

Just a side note — it has been super difficult to learn Portuguese from the beginning in such a short stay, but it has been super worth it. This isn’t only because learning a new language makes your brain healthier or gives you a reason to feel smart, it’s because you can’t really know someone until you speak their first language with them. There’s so much personality that’s locked behind the door of the extra cognition and unfamiliarity it takes for someone to speak in a language they don’t often use to crack jokes or talk to friends. Plus, Portuguese contains so many expressions and “palavrãos” (curse words) that don’t make sense in English that you’re just missing out on a higher level of communication if you only speak to Brazilians in English. This isn’t to say that I’m completely fluent, or even nearly fluent in Portuguese (that would be ridiculously impressive). But it makes me so happy when I’m in on the jokes my Brazilian friends create, can learn about the life of a random man sitting next to me on the bus, or have a laugh with a peppy teenager trying to sell me fake Gucci in an outdoor “feira.” 

3. Understanding My Place in Brazil

Remember how I said earlier that I bought a Big Mac? Guess how much it cost. If you guessed R$26,90 or $4.76 USD, you would be correct. But wait — earlier I mentioned that American food is a more expensive option in Brazil, but a Big Mac in Chicago, my hometown, is $5.35 USD, a whole 59 cents more expensive! So, it would seem, McDonald’s in Brazil is actually cheaper than in the United States.

The answer is actually much more complicated. For an American traveling to Brazil, exchanging United States dollars for Brazilian reais, sure, the American pays slightly less for the burger. But this is only due to the fact that the exchange rate between USD and Reais heavily favors the dollar. Exchange rates between two countries are under the influence of various market, economic, and political forces, which makes it almost impossible for travelers to understand the true value of a foreign country’s currency in the context of its workers salaries and cost of living. To get a better view of how hard people have to work to buy things in other countries, try looking for estimates of the purchasing power parity between the two nations. For instance, the exchange rate between the US dollar and the Brazilian real is around 5.65 reais per US dollar at the time I’m writing this. The purchasing power parity, though, estimates that in Brazil, one can buy around the same amount of goods for 2.44 reais as United States citizens can buy domestically for 1 dollar. This means that us Americans paying for things with USD underestimate how costly everything in Brazil feels for the people who live there by over two times! In conclusion: yes, a McDonald’s Big Mac is effectively more expensive for the people living here in Brazil than for Americans living in the United States (and smaller too, by the way).

Price of a Big Mac in Reais

Why am I telling you this? Because it’s easy to find yourself in an embarrassing situation if you don’t know how expensive things are perceived domestically in another country. This happened to me a lot at first, before I learned from Brazilians about their typical salaries. For instance, one time I was looking for a shirt to buy as a souvenir, and stumbled upon this nice navy blue and yellow shirt that read BRAZIL across the front. When I asked how much it was, the cashier told me: “140 Reais.” Now this was a really nice shirt, and the quality was great, so I was thrilled. After all, that’s just under $25 USD, which would be a great deal back in the states. “Wow, that’s a good deal!” I said to the Brazilians I was with, who looked back at me confusedly and with their mouths open. “No, really, that’s not cheap, but it’s probably the best deal you’re gonna get,” one of them responded amusedly. I still bought it, but I made sure to keep my thoughts to myself when it came to prices after that day. 

I said I wouldn’t talk about academics here, but I can’t help it with how impactful the work we’ve done with Mackenzie University has been on my personal growth as well as my understanding of how the pieces of this country fit together. Over many weeks, Mackenzie professors and students facilitated in-depth discussions with Dara and I about the reality of environmental sustainability and water management in Brazil. We were taken to places all around São Paulo to see firsthand both the problems and successes we learned about in the classroom. By the end, we had created a business idea related to sustainability in the context of Brazil using what we had learned.

The reason I’m bringing this up here is because it helped me solidify my self-image in Brazil. Before coming, I had lots of concerns about the ethical implications of me visiting the country on a stipend: Will me being there cause more harm than good? Is it messed up for me to live on US dollars? Should I go into this experience with the intention to fix something or just to immerse and inform myself? 

The more I allowed myself to lean on Mackenzie’s resources, learn, and observe, the more I realized how crazy the notion really is that a twenty year old gringo who has never stepped foot in Brazil may travel here and magically make some wide-reaching change that does any more good than harm all by themselves. It became perfectly clear to me just how necessary it would be to immerse myself into life here as well as learn as much as possible about the country’s domestic affairs, politics, bureaucracy, economy, cultural values, subcultures, history, and everything in between, in order to even start to speculate any change would affect all these different groups of people here. And as I’m not here to sightsee and be a tourist, I’m here to learn and immerse myself with all the time I have. 

I did say that I came up with a business idea related to sustainability in São Paulo, and it might sound like this project directly contradicts what I just said. But there’s one huge difference and silver lining to the existentialist feeling that you may not be able to make a change that works in the context of a different country: help from the people who live here. I see it this way: I’m not able to intuitively understand how a change will impact people in Brazil. But, I grew up in such a different environment from the people here who can intuitively understand (or have the requisite knowledge to make a good guess), that I’m good at generating ideas that may not cross many resident’s minds. Unsurprisingly, I usually realize these ideas suck after I run them by Brazilians, but sometimes bits and pieces of them spark new ideas which then sparks productive conversation. 

And I think that’s why I’m here: To facilitate conversations between people with such different lives who otherwise never would have met. To realize how useful it is to joke around with, party, relate to, love, or solve problems with people who live such different lives — to explore new foods, clothing, or memes with new people and see yourself in their shoes. People are only ever going to become more connected over the internet as time moves forward, and it’s worth it to get used to listening and learning from all different types of people. I mean — you should see how many Brazilians follow my LinkedIn and Instagram now! (heh). I bet in 20 years, I’ll still remember the man next to me on a 90 minute bus ride who taught me outdated slang and introduced me to his son on the phone. I’ll remember the family of four I met waiting in a line to leave Pão de Açúcar and their 10-year-old kid who told me about how he had played all the Super Mario games. I’ll remember the Austrian ex-bodyguard who served Belgian politicians and formula one drivers. And of course I’ll remember my travel partners — Dara, Erica, and Shay — and all my awesome Brazilian friends I met through Mackenzie and our friend (and Loewenstern Fellow) Juliana who lives in Brazil. It’s been quite an adventure, and I’d do it again a million times.

Me, Dara, and Brazilian Friends from Mackenzie 🙂

Lessons on Forgiveness, Feminine Strength, and Compassion from El Banco de Alimentos de Bolivia

July 25th, 2024 by Neha Kohli

       Thanks to the Loewenstern Fellowship, I have had the wonderful privilege of working at El Banco de Alimentos in Cochabamba, Bolivia. Through this experience, I have gotten to know the most passionate and driven individuals who have profoundly impacted my life for the better. I have had countless meaningful experiences that have taught me so much. I have therefore decided to use my blog to share some of the lessons that I have learned here in Bolivia from some of the people who have made my time here so special and unforgettable.

Lessons on Forgiveness with Yu:

        Yu was one of the first people Jackson (my travel partner) and I met at El Banco de Alimentos de Bolivia. We first entered the food bank about two months ago, yet it feels like our first day happened just yesterday…
I am not a big planner, I rarely think too far into the future. Instead, I often prefer to focus on the now. However, this meant that I did not allow myself a moment this past semester to truly think through what it would mean to live and work in Cochabamba, Bolivia. Therefore, entering the large metal gates of the food bank on the first day, all of my nerves culminated as the following questions swirled around my head:

What if everyone hates me?
What if I don’t understand Spanish well enough?
What if I mess everything up?
What if I break something?
What if I accidentally offend someone?
What if I’m not strong enough to do the work they want me to do?

I hoped that Jheysson (the food bank’s founder) could not read my thoughts.

        My worries slightly calmed when a familiar face came to greet us. Jorge, a past Loewenstern Fellow and friend of mine from Rice entered the room and gave Jackson and I each a warm hug. Afterwards, we were introduced to some new faces. This is when we first met Yu (our manager at the Food Bank). Yu reached out his hand towards me, but as I shook it, he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek (the normal way to greet women in Bolivia). Already very nervous, this caught me by surprise. I jumped back, as in the US, physical touch when greeting someone is far from the norm. Yu and Jorge explained to me that this was how people greeted people in Bolivia. Embarrassed, I asked to try again. Only a few minutes into our fellowship, I had already made my first mistake. Thankfully, this second try went off without a hitch. This became a common theme during my time at El Banco de Alimentos; if at first you don’t succeed, then try, try again.
        Luckily for me, I would later learn that Yu is not someone to judge or hold grudges, so I am sure that this initial interaction has most likely disappeared from his mind. Over the past month, I have come to know Yu as an incredibly caring, tranquil, and forgiving boss. I have made numerous mistakes, which Yu has always approached with a gentle calmness. I have learned a valuable lesson from him: mistakes are not the end of the world, everything has a solution.
        One mistake stands out to me from the rest, as it was my most recent. I have dubbed this mistake “the water bottle incident.” The day of the water bottle incident started out like any other. Carolina (a beneficiaries manager at the food bank) asked me to load 75 packets of water bottles for a community. Yu pointed me towards a pallet of water bottles, and I began to load them on. An important thing to note here is that the food bank is incredibly organized, and Yu is in charge of maintaining this organization. Since food usually arrives at the food bank very close to its expiry date, this organization is imperative in ensuring that as soon as food comes in, it goes out. This is how the food bank is able to best maximize their widespread impact.
        Prior to stacking the 75 requested bottles, I ran out of units on the pallet that Yu had pointed me towards. I wandered over to his desk, and looked over at him. Nervous to interrupt his work, I turned around to see a pallet of water bottles with the same expiry dates as the ones I had previously loaded. I made the error of deciding not to check with Yu (who knows everything about the warehouse and would have been able to point me to the correct pallet), and began to load more bottles from this pallet and deliver them to the door.
        About 30 minutes later, when I had already loaded quite a few bottles from this erroneous pallet, Yu looked over and stopped me. He let me know that the bottles I was loading had not been entered into the system yet, so they could not go out to beneficiaries. I immediately stopped in my tracks. From the deer in headlights look on my face, Yu could tell that I was more than a packet or two of bottles into my mistake. “Cuántos paquetes tomaste de allá?” (How many packets did you take from there) Yu asked me.
        “Umm 20” I guessed “no 12” I revised. The truth was, I had absolutely no idea. Yu could tell that I was just throwing out random numbers.
        “Estas seguro?” (Are you sure) He asked me.
        “No, Lo siento, I’m sorry” I admitted.
      “Ok, necesitamos revisar y contar todos las botellas” (We need to check and count all the bottles) Yu said, quickly finding a way to remedy my mistake.
        I spent the rest of the morning alternating between repeating “Lo Siento” and “Sorry”, hoping that if I tried both languages my apology would communicate how remorseful I truly was for my mistake. I also began to try and fix it, loading bottles onto a cart from the correct pallet to bring down to the loading door. As I dragged the new bottles down the ramp, the cart became too heavy for me and I was distracted, still preoccupied by my worries regarding the misplaced bottles, so I crashed loudly into the wall, spilling the bottles all over the floor right in front of Yu’s desk (my second mistake within a 5 minute time span).
        Needless to say, I was mortified and holding back tears at this point. Hearing the loud bang, Yu looked up from his computer. I expected him to be angry, so I looked over to gauge his reaction. He was laughing. He didn’t get angry, he didn’t yell at me, he didn’t even seem upset. In fact after he was done laughing, he even came over to help me restack the bottles. “No te preocupes, esta bien Neha, tranqui, podemos arreglar” (don’t worry, it’s ok, relax, we can fix it) he said to me.
        Our past experiences will always taint our future expectations. Yu’s reaction caught me off guard, as I was not used to seeing this level of calm in the face of a mistake. My past experiences working in the US have conditioned me to so often expect the worst when I make a mistake. I therefore find it hard to grant myself forgiveness for mistakes, no matter how big or small. I have never before been in an environment like the food bank, where mistakes are not only forgiven but are forgiven with such warmth and compassion.
        After that day of work at the food bank, Yu took Jackson and I to see a movie, try Bolivian street food, and watch traditional dances. As we walked around the city and talked, I began to realize that Yu was not angry at me about the water bottles, he had moved on, and I should too. At the end of our movie night with Yu, for the first time since our initial meeting, I leaned in and kissed goodbye on the cheek, finally properly embracing a salutation that perfectly displays Bolivia’s culture of love, care, and understanding.
        Yu’s reaction to my mistake was kind and gentle. His character is so very different from anyone I have ever met before. He has shown me that we can always choose to be empathetic, even amidst work and stress. I hope to one day embody Yu’s level of calmness and apply forgiveness the same way he does, both towards others and towards myself. Yu taught me an important lesson that I will be taking back with me to Rice: mistakes are not the end of the world, we can always find solutions.
        Unlearning a lifelong and deeply ingrained fear of mistakes is no easy task, but I thank Yu for being patient with me, and for opening my eyes everyday to the possibility of a workplace without fear. I am slowly learning not to consistently expect the worst reactions to my mistakes. I realize now that I deserve the same grace that I would extend to another person. So, I forgive myself for misplacing (and spilling) the water bottles, and I forgive myself also for the countless future mistakes I will inevitably make in the next month at the food bank. Now, when I make a mistake, I can exhale knowing that I will always have help fixing it. Yu’s words continue to ring in my head as a reminder, “Todo tiene un solución, tranquí” (everything has a solution, relax).



Lessons on Feminine Strength with Laura:

        Throughout my life feminism has always been an important theme. As a student involved in diversity, equity, and inclusion work, I have always believed that everyone deserves equal respect. However, in our current society, it is clear that in many circumstances the same respect that is given freely to a man must be hard earned by women. Laura is one of the hardest-working people I think I have ever encountered, and she is so respected here at the food bank. Clearly, she has worked so hard to earn this respect. Working under Laura at the food bank has changed my conception of feminine strength for the better.
           I realize now that prior to working at the food bank, my conception of feminine strength was deeply flawed. To understand where my conception went wrong, I reflect on a past experience with gender-based violence that I had when I was 17 years old. After this incident, it was hard for me to ever feel truly physically strong again. For a long time, I viewed this incident as a moment of profound weakness which greatly altered my self-perception pertaining to physical strength. I realize now that I let one moment completely taint how I viewed feminine strength as a whole. Instead of embracing women’s capability for physical strength, I focused exclusively on intellectual strength after this incident. Within myself, I focused solely on strengthening my intellect as opposed to my body. After what happened, I had given up on the idea of ever truly feeling physically stronger than a man.
        Witnessing Laura work at the food bank has been so transformative, both for my personal self-perception and for my perception of feminine strength as a whole. I have never met anyone who works as hard as Laura does at the food bank. When there is work to be done, Laura is there. It does not matter whether it is a holiday or a Sunday, when there is work to be done, I know that Laura will be there. Additionally, she is always unafraid to take on the most arduous tasks. I have seen Laura wake up at 5am to deliver food to vulnerable populations in Bolivia. I have also seen her fill an entire truck up with wood chips for compost with a shovel and then empty that same truck. I have seen her lift 6 cases of cookies at a time whilst most people tire after lifting 4. The work she does inspires me. She is an integral part of the food bank’s functioning, not only for her physical strength, but also for her incredible organizational skills and intelligence as well. Laura seamlessly manages relations with beneficiaries and is always on time. Additionally, my conversations with Laura have been such a delightful part of this experience, as she never fails to bring in a novel perspective.
        Laura has shown me a new way to embrace feminine strength. I see now how close-minded and factually incorrect my prior conception of feminine strength was. I was afraid that I would never be able to guarantee myself physical strength, so I focused on intellectuality instead. I wanted a level of control over my future. Yet, the truth is, that we can’t ever control the situations in our future, but this does not mean that we should not strive to be the best possible versions of ourselves. My prior conception of feminine strength so clearly denied the exceptionality of so many women, women like Laura, who work day in and day out to embody a perfect combination of both physical and intellectual strength.
        I won’t ever be able to 100% ensure that there are no more moments of weakness in my future, but this does not mean that I need to live in fear surrounded by sentiments of weakness. Now, at the food bank, I often look to Laura for direction; where she is, I want to be, what she is doing, I want to be doing. Thanks to Laura’s guidance, I do not feel weak anymore, instead I am getting stronger and smarter every day at the food bank. I thank Laura for opening my eyes up to a world of potential; from now on, I embrace feminine strength in a comprehensive way.


Lessons on Compassion with Pame:

        My experiences with Pame have been some of the absolute highlights of my time here in Bolivia. I have learned so much from her wisdom and kindness, as well as from her unique language skills. Pame has an aura of empathy and compassion that draws people in, both beneficiaries and her co-workers. I first had the privilege of connecting with Pame on a trip to deliver cookies to vulnerable populations in more rural areas of Bolivia. This was my first time actually coming face-to-face with the food bank’s beneficiaries, and it was an incredibly impactful experience. I am so grateful to Pame and Jonah (another co-worker who drives the food bank’s trucks) for inviting me to share in these incredibly special moments.
        Delivering the cookies was a wonderful experience. Learning from Pame and watching her interact with children was such a gift. Pame’s heart is as big as the sky. I watched her maintain her patience amidst chaos, gift cookies to children without the usual logistics fee, and speak to beneficiaries in their maternal language, Quechua. The truck ride there and back was also incredibly enjoyable for me, as Pame is the most wonderful conversationalist. I learned so much from her, and she asked the most interesting questions, helping me transcend the Spanish-English language barrier. Pame was one of the first people I truly opened up to here at the food bank. I feel so comfortable around her, as when Pame speaks, you can hear in her voice how much she truly cares about everyone around her. Pame now knows more about my life in Maryland than most of my friends at Rice do.
        Importantly, Pame is one of the few people at the food bank who speaks Quechua (Cochabamba’s indigenous language) fluently. She is therefore absolutely integral to the food bank’s functioning, as her language ability is fundamental in building trust and confidence between the bank and the communities it serves. Listening to Pame speak Quechua with beneficiaries has been such a privilege. I have been able to witness firsthand the level of comfort and security Pame brings people. Language is an integral aspect of culture, a common language can break down barriers. Pame’s language skills build bridges between vulnerable populations and the food bank.
        My experiences with Pame have helped me reflect on my knowledge of my own maternal language, Hindi, which I unfortunately lost the ability to speak as a kid. When I was younger, I did not think that it was important to dedicate myself to learning Hindi, as like many children of immigrants, I wanted to be as American as possible. I see now that this was a mistake that has cost me so much potential connection with my own culture. These past few months, people in Bolivia have asked me about my culture, my Indian roots. This has helped me embrace my background. Since being here, I have started learning a few Hindi words and listening to Hindi music, attempting to retain a little more of my language and culture. Pame has shown me how language skills can truly open the door to compassion and empathy as well as connection to culture, and for that, I am so grateful to her.
        When speaking with Pame, you can tell that she truly loves the work that she is doing at the food bank. She is so knowledgeable about her community and about society as a whole. You can feel her desire to help people and her love for others. She was so kind to seamlessly extend this love to me these past few months. I hope Pame knows the impact she is making on so many people’s lives, and I hope that she knows the impact she had on mine. I now have a role model for life, and I hope to have a career just like hers’, one full of compassion and service to others. When I “grow up”, if my heart is even half the size of Pame’s, I would consider it a success.

Conclusion:

        Yu, Laura, and Pame are all very different. They each have different personalities, different values, and different styles of working at the food bank. Yet, they are all a part of a team. They all offer each other mutual respect and friendship, and their strengths compliment each others’ so well. What I love about the food bank is that there is never only one right way of doing things. The food bank is a community of passionate individuals all working towards a common goal, but not everyone works towards this goal in the same way. Everyone is in the right at the food bank, no one is shamed or punished for doing things their way. This is a team, a community, that embraces differences.
        At home, in the United States, learning to relax has always been a bit difficult for me. Sometimes, I feel as though I live in a world of pressure, a never-ending horse race. At Rice, I feel a need to prove myself; to prove that I deserve to be there, or to prove that I deserve a future after. I am so grateful that I was welcomed into the food bank’s community, as it is a world free from this mounting pressure. I have learned that whilst I should strive to be my strongest and most compassionate self, making mistakes is perfectly alright. I plan on taking this lesson back to Rice. Not everything has to be perfect all of the time. It is ok to feel emotions, to be nervous or afraid, but I know now that this fear does not have to control you. For right now, I am so grateful to exist within the world of the food bank; a world where mistakes are forgiven, strength in all forms is celebrated, and compassion is everywhere.